Ab Initio
by Indigo Lily
Summary: The Capitol thought they knew it all. Peeta and Katniss, the star-crossed lovers from District 12. So, bogus or not, what happens when the brutal, gorgeous Cato lays his claim?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Err, no crap I'm not Suzanne Collins! :P

This is set before the Games start, but after the chariots and the initial training session. **REVIEW!**

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**Ab Initio**

**Chapter 1**

_In the Training Area, Katniss is alone._

Katniss trailed her fingers longingly over the finely crafted bow, as they itched to feel the heavy weight of the wood in her hands. It wouldn't hurt to just fire one of those perfectly streamline arrows, would it? After all, everyone had left, and she wouldn't be revealing her talent. _Besides, _her mind argued, _wouldn't it be better if I had a little practice with a bow similar to the one I will be using when the Game makers score me?_ More practice…higher score…more sponsors…get out alive – for Prim.

That was all the encouragement it took, and next she knew, she had gripped the arch of the bow, revelling in the reluctant bend as she tested it in her hands. She surveyed the feast of arrows, laid out for her delectation, and took her time selecting the _perfect_ arrow. Naturally, they were all manufactured essentially the same, but one had a slightly crooked feather, perhaps from previous use…this tip had been blunted – one too many dummy hits…this one had a little notch, a tiny gouge, really, but she dropped it and moved on…and…aha!

She loaded the arrow, and felt a frisson of excitement shimmer through her veins as she faced the pockmarked dummy. Inhaling slowly as she drew back her arm, she closed her eyes, and could almost feel the heat of Gale as he stood behind her, like it was any other Sunday poaching session. Her breath left her in a whoosh as she fired, and even after she heard it thud, she did not open her eyes.

Somehow, she felt like if she opened her eyes, she'd dispel the familiar warmth of Gale, even though she knew it was only her imagination.

Besides, she knew she had hit a –

"Bullseye. Impres-"

Surprised and off balance, she whirled around to punch her assailant, and found her arm gripped in a dead lock, any remaining breath leaving her when a muscled forearm had her body flattened against the living heat of…Cato? Was it? From District 2.

"-sive, Fire girl." He finished off his sentence. His nose brushed hers' as his breath fanned across her lips. In a remote part of her brain she now registered that she should have known Gale's body heat hadn't been part of her imagination. The region of functioning brain telling her to run away was being largely ignored by her body. Somehow, she stayed rooted to the spot, staring into the glacial blue of his eyes, heart thumping and all but sprawled on his chest. A spark lit in her. Some irrational part in her wanted to _live_ these last few days, enjoy life before the Capitol dumped her into the heart of some twisted massacre game they had planned.

And right now, all she could see was a pair of soft lips, perfectly biteable in the way only a man's could be. Right now, she felt enveloped by warmth, and right now...somehow…she felt safe.

And then he was uncoiling from his stooped position to his full height, a towering head above her, his lips set in a cruel smirk. He still held her, his arms now no longer saving her, but rather forcing her to remain teetering off balance, at a funny angle away from him. A little like that wedding photo of Mom and Dad, he had held her bent at the waist in his arms. Katniss had found it romantic, and some silly part in her hoped that maybe…maybe one day a boy she truly loved might hold her so intimately. Ironic now, that someone who most definitely wanted her dead was now fulfilling her wishes – minus the love.

His icy eyes continued to bore into her, and she wasn't fooled where another girl would be swooning in the arms of this gorgeous guy.

This was power play, pure and simple, and he was telling her he had her at his mercy, in every way. _Damn him for noticing she had reacted to his masculine sexuality_. His superior position was saying _I will kill you in a heartbeat, and don't you forget it. _Satisfied his message had been read and understood, he slowly set her back on her feet.

She felt the control flow back to her. That thread that had held her under his…his…_magic_, snapped, and all she could feel was her resentment at being played for a fool.

Her slap echoed through the cold, steel room, even as some part of her watched remotely in horror, moaning something like _oh, Katniss, what have you done? You've practically begged the Career tribute to put you at number one on the enemy list._ She shakily backed a step as he slowly turned to face her.

A droplet of blood gleamed at his mouth. "Bitch," he snarled at her.

She gripped her bow tighter, as if the unloaded weapon would help. "Thanks." She tried for bravado, for sarcasm, but the tremor betrayed her. _It's illegal, you can't kill me now_ was brimming at her lips, about to spill forth, when his lips turned up into a deadly smile.

"I like bitches."

Oh _shit._

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Ah, so what happens next? You'll see :)

This is my first Hunger Games fan fiction, so **REVIEW if you think I should continue** – I'm not playing coy, I promise, but with so many awesome fics out there, I'm truly uncertain whether I should continue.

Also, please do check out my Harry Potter fic with a rather unusual pairing also. What can I say? I love 'em weirdo fics :P

Thank you, and see you (maybe) next chapter – I'll see what those reviews say!

Natalily~


	2. Chapter 2

Hmm, so I decided to upload another trial chapter. **REVIEW** if you wish me to keep on updating! I'm looking at all you **Story Alerters** who read but never review :)

This is for all you amazing peeps out there who read it and liked it cuz I could never be mad at you-who-never-review, even though I try :P

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**Ab Initio**

**Chapter 2**

_In the cell, before the Scoring._

Katniss inhaled slowly as she exited the sterile room she and Peeta had been waiting in. As she crossed the wide expanse of tiled floor, she heard a voice from one of the other cells. Hot and velvety, it flowed across her, and she luxuriated in the sound even as she identified it as that brutal Cato's. Brutal and bloody _gorgeous_, and naturally he'd have a voice to suit. Irritation at the injustice flickered across her, but she slapped it away like a bug, until she heard what he was saying. "…rat from 12? Doesn't stand a chance, she can't even look at me without falling to her feet! Doubt she'll score a two, she'll be too busy _fainting_…" A shrill laugh from his partner drowned out the rest of his words.

Somehow, Katniss was disappointed he was scorning her, even though she should have been glad he wasn't giving away her talent. Somehow, those words affected her, and her knuckles were white and she was hot with anger where she should be coolly disdainful and collected.

_What was he doing to her?_

She pushed open the double doors and entered the Scoring Room, her shoulders back and her head high, a seething mess beneath her cool exterior. _She'd show him._ She picked up a bow, and selected an arrow, facing the dummy and inhaling slowly, trying the ignore the Game Makers' rabble.

She tried to focus on her breathing, but those _sounds _kept interfering. _Tune it out, breathe…breathe…_but she couldn't, her body was disobedient, and all it wanted to do was _listen. _The Game Makers were pointing at her, scoffing none-too-softly at her self-confidence. Snippets of conversations soiled her ears as they placed bets on that monster from District 2, sure that with the last two _Seam rats_ to go, nobody could beat him.

A wave of white hot rage crashed through her as they assessed her like she were furniture., comparing her against that _Cato._ How dare they snicker like she was a pawn in their game, objectified for their amusement? _Didn't they get it? _She was a _life, dammit,_ and lives were precious and priceless, could not be bought and bartered for the enjoyment of the Capitol. Nor could the other 23 lives they planned to slaughter. And for what?

_Fun._

The rage made her irrational, and she strode to the camouflage table, dipping two fingers in the thick, red paint in one jar. She felt a couple of curious eyes on her, but mostly, they were too busy settling bets on Cato. Striding back to the dummy, she painstakingly stroked her red finger across its chest. She stepped back.

_Games. _Boldly emblazoned across the dummy's chest. She strung her bow, and blind in her anger, she released her arrow with a violent, discordant _twang_. She heard a _thwack_, and then a good, solid thud. All conversation ceased. The haze passed from her eyes, and she looked.

And looked again.

The arrow was firmly embedded in the bullseye of a dummy, quivering from the force it had hit. _And there was a gaping hole where the bullseye used to be on the dummy in front of it. _Somehow the arrow had gone _through_ the centre of the first dummy and hit the next. She looked up at the shocked Game Makers. _Go to hell, _her challenging gaze said.

_And your Hunger Games can accompany you to hell_, said the missing 'M' in 'Games' from the first dummy's chest.

She dropped the bow where she stood and strolled nonchalantly out of the room like it was no big deal as the Game Makers picked their jaws off the ground.

* * *

"For the last time Katniss, _what did you do?_" Katniss just blinked owlishly at Effie and replied dryly "You want another version or the one I've been telling you the past three hundred times when every time afterwards you shriek '_YOU WHAT?'_" Effie's mouth worked furiously, and in the end, she threw her hands up in capitulation and stormed off, muttering something about _bad manners_.

Katniss snorted. Her life was on the line, and she was supposed to care about bad _manners_? To Katniss' everlasting dismay, Effie heard the snort and came rushing back to reprimand her some more, when a loud belch announced Haymitch's entrance, Peeta close behind him.

"Sweetheart," Haymitch began as he swaggered down the stairs. He opened his mouth, about to say something, but then glanced at apoplectic Effie and threw Katniss a discreet wink. "Bad manners, very bad indeed." Haymitch wagged his finger in Katniss' face as she struggled to suppress another snort of laughter. Effie looked somewhat less murderous.

Caesar Flickerman chose that moment to grace the television screen with his blue hair and matching suit to announce the scores of the tributes. Katniss leaned forward when he announced District 2. The girl, Clove, a ten. Cato, a ten also. Damn. They were going to be unbeatable, should they team together the way Careers _always_ do. Blanking out Caesar, she slumped back. Fuck my life, she thought to herself. Not only was she going to get no sponsors, she knew she'd been singled out by Cato already, for stealing his limelight at the ceremony. And that slap. Oops.

She was dead meat, and she knew it even before Caesar called the last name for the night. "And from District 12, Katniss Everdeeeeeen", _with a score of zero_ Katniss thought to herself – "with a score of…" _zero, zero, zero_ was like a mantra, playing in her head.

"_Eleven."_

There was a shocked silence. Then a gasp. Effie. Then a little scream. Effie. All of a sudden, everyone seemed to come to life, and suddenly, Cinna was there, whooping and lifting her off her feet in a massive hug; Effie was jumping up and down excitedly; Haymitch was pumping his fist in the air and Peeta…was staring at her with puppy worship in his eyes. Some part of her wasn't sure she liked it, but the rest was mainly occupied with confusion. _How did I…?_

She disentangled herself from Cinna, and made her way to her room in a disorientated haze. She sat. She stood. She paced. And she repeated the process. Deciding it was of no help breathing the clean, fake scent of her room, she headed to the elevator, determined to clear her head with some fresh air. When she stepped in, she sagged against the elevator wall, pressing her cheek against the cold glass, sighing in relief when the elevator _pinged_ and announced she was on the top level.

The air was cold and a fresh breeze sent her hair flying all over her face, and her lips tipped faintly to breathe air free of the Capitol's artifice. If she closed her eyes, she might even be able to imagine she was back at home.

She lifted her hand to brush away the errant locks when something seized her wrist, and before she knew it, her assailant had spun her around and pinned her into one of the glass wall that housed the elevator, one hand roughly smothering her shriek.

_Cato_. Her traitorous body knew it was him. She took a moment to judge the situation. He was towering over her, her arms shackled high above her head, but like _hell_ she was going down again without a fight. Just as a plan that involved knee jerking and his prized package formulated in her head, his hips flattened against hers to prevent it. She cursed around his hand, bucking wildly, trying to get him off her, when he breathed hotly into her ear. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." Katniss immediately stilled, the danger in the situation palpable.

Her lungs seized, and she told her body not to react even as a hot flush worked itself up her throat. Thank God it was dark and he couldn't see. He slowly lifted his muscled body of hers, and when satisfied she wasn't going to bolt, he released her. Finger by finger.

"Must've been some pretty impressive fainting you showed those Game Makers, Fire girl." And then he winked. And just walked away. _What the hell? He'd pinned her just to say that?_ Though she knew that wasn't the answer.

He was irritating her, taunting her, making her feel a hot mess of things she'd never felt before, even as she knew why he'd done it. Threatened, and his strategy was obvious. Get into her head, mess with her mind so she was easy prey to pick off when she entered the Arena. And as little as she'd like to admit it…

_Damn_ if it wasn't working.

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Cato's smart, no? Knows exactly how to work our Katniss LOL. **REVIEW**, all you peeps who read and never review, I'd LOVE to know what you think!

**If every single person who reads this REVIEWS, then I PROMISE there will be a chapter 3, at the very least. I can see from my email y'all peeps who press alert and never leave feedback mwahahaha :)**

Mm, and more Cato...

Natalily~


	3. Chapter 3

So hello, my darlings! This is dedicated to all you **REVIEWERS** out there :P Amazing, every single one of you.

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**Ab Initio**

**Chapter 3**

_In line, before the Interview._

Katniss nodded as Haymitch briskly imparted the plan. So they had concocted a strategy for more sponsors, playing the lovesick lovers of 12. Peeta, Haymitch said, would be doing the work – all she needed to do was play nice.

Haymitch turned to leave, but then paused, and swung back around. His eyes darted at the other tributes being busily fussed over by their mentors, before dipping his head to whisper in Katniss' ear. "Listen closely," he breathed. "You're the first one going up onto that stage – they've reversed the order, want to start the Games with a _bang_ and you're the favourite. Girl on fire and everything. This is your biggest chance, Katniss, _they need to love you._" With another furtive glance around, he straightened, staggering off, playing the part as the drunk.

Her heart thudded, her mind a swirling panic. Make people _like_ her? Oh she _knew_. Cinna said right now the Capitol liked her – loved her, even! But she knew better. The Capitol loved the _idea_ of her, fiery in her martyrdom, her protective, sisterly love. After this interview? It would all go down the drain. Because she knew that once she opened her mouth, _nobody_ liked her. Well, except for Cinna. But then, she reasoned, Cinna was somehow different to everyone else. Dread fogged her mind, until her hand accidentally brushed her mockingjay pin on her breast, and it brought everything rushing back into focus.

This was for Prim, she reminded herself. She was doing this for Prim. Her head cleared a little, and then she knew _exactly_ how she was going to play this.

"…lovely Katniss Everdeeeeeeeeen!" Caesar's announcement was met with a wild applause. _Breathe, Katniss, breathe_, she reminded herself. She strode determinedly up the stage, where Caesar stood awaiting in his eyesore of a suit. _Breathe. Play them._

He ushered her to her seat, giving her a little, encouraging smile as the roars of the crowd gradually decreased. "So, Katniss, I have to tell you," Caesar started, "when you entered the Ceremony, my heart stopped. Truly, I tell you. It stopped." Katniss grinned. "Truly, I tell you," she said, laying her hand over his with a flirtatious wink, "I'm disappointed I wasn't at hand to help with the…resuscitation." She blew a little kiss at the uproarious crowd, in case they hadn't caught onto her innuendo. Hundreds of hand flew up to catch her kiss as though it were a tangible thing, treasuring the precious kiss from the girl on _fire_.

"Do you have the flames with you today? Now?" The crowd clamoured greedily at Caesar's words, and Katniss hunted the masses of wonderstruck eyes for Cinna's. After all, Cinna had all but drenched her in some kind of odourless chemical before dressing her. Did that mean…was she supposed to…? Her eyes caught his, and a discreet twirl of the finger resting beneath his chin let her know.

"Indeed I am, Mr Flickerman. Care to see?" "Care to SEE?" Caesar cried in wonderment to the crowd, much of which had leapt to their feet, cheering and screaming in delight. "Just for you, Caesar, just for you." Charisma flooded from her, bathing the jaded Capitol in new light.

Katniss held her giddy nerves under an iron-barred composure. _No cracks_, she reminded herself, _even if all I see when I look at those people are bloodthirsty animals, lusting for blood._ The Capitol waited with baited breath as she uncoiled with the unerring grace of a hunter, drew a shuddering breath – and then transformed into a column of whirling fire.

It danced lovingly across her skin, licking up her body, the crimson flickering lending the illusion of titian curls, writhing in the flame light. She was an angel, a demon, a burning martyr all at once. It ended all too abruptly when she executed a little, mocking curtsy and rejoined Caesar. She smiled – if you could call it that, her canines glistening in the dying flames, eyes glinting with feral light, beautiful and shadowed and _otherworldly_.

Panem stood still.

Caesar recovered first. "Katniss, that was…that was really something." He surreptitiously brushed away what looked suspiciously like a tear from the corner of his eye. "Now ah, as we all know, you volunteered for your little sister, Prim. Tell us about her."

"She's my sister." She said shortly, as though that sufficed. She looked for Cinna. He had his eyebrows raised. _And…? – _it said.

"She has the purest heart in the world, and I love her more than anything. I would do anything for her." She heard more than one sniffle in the crowd, and an overwhelming tide of "Awww's" washing across the audience. _That's it, _she thought, _eat it up, eat it all up and just get me out of this alive_.

"And," she continued, "_when I win_, it will be for her."

_I'm the Girl on Fire, and I will _burn_ my way through the tributes to get that Crown if I must_, the steely determination in her eyes said. The crowd "Oooed", leaning forward to this fiery, butterfly in their midst. Elusive, evading the greedy grasping of the ravenous Capitol, flitting out of their understanding just when they thought they'd had her analysed down to the letter.

Something buzzed to her right, signalling the end of her allotted time, and a faint few cries of protest echoed in the crowd as she stood, leaving a star struck people in her wake.

She succeeded, she'd lured them in, captivated them, and right now, she held their assured love. She was the girl on fire, invincible to those cold, hard glares of her fellow tributes. No, the Hunger Games hadn't started with a _bang_, as Haymitch had put it. It had started with a _bomb_, and Capitol citizens were scrabbling all over the crater, fighting to sponsor her.

* * *

She had already kicked off those atrocious heels and curled up on a suede settee backstage, intently watching Peeta for his move, when Haymitch entered. "How did I go?" She asked. "Perfect." He said succinctly, but she could see the pride in his eyes before he flopped beside her, anxiously watching the screen. There was no need for worry – Peeta played his part to an art form, bashfully shy, yet so in love he couldn't resist blurting it out to the nation on live television.

The Capitol licked it, lapped it, loved it and asked for more. The girl on Fire and the boy who wasn't afraid to get Burnt for Love.

She and Peeta exchanged short nods when he finally joined them on the chaise, but her eyes had already flickered back to the screen, missing the way that his lingered sadly on her.

Many of the other tributes, she dismissed. She viewed them in an almost detached fashion – too weak, too boring, too quiet, and the crowd clearly felt it too. They'd gone into almost a slumberous mode, clapping politely, cheering feebly, deflated after the detonations set by the first two tributes.

Then they called for Cato.

Tall, deadly and _gorgeous_. She almost felt something when the camera panned, zooming on the women fluttering themselves with their stupid fans, flustered at the crooked little smirk that flirted at the edge of his sensual lips. The one that said _I already know all your secrets, but I still want to kiss them out of you_.

If she and Peeta had been the love bomb, then Cato was the sex bomb. He worked the crowd like a consummate charmer, the flawless fusion of sexy bad boy and deadliness. More than once, Katniss caught herself before she started grinning like a lovesick fool, and she'd thought she's perfected the art of the stony expression, when Caesar asked, "So what about it, eh, Cato? Any special girl captured your heart?" The foolish women of the Capitol leaned forward in anticipation, as though they thought Cato would miraculously call their names. She cursed herself for doing it, but she couldn't help it. Katniss leaned forward in curiosity.

The cameras zoomed in on Cato's face as he glanced down, outlining every damnably gorgeous aquiline plane, and that sweep of long, golden eyelashes that she swore were illegally long. Women sighed when his lashes lifted again, the camera zoom revealing every glacial shard in his icy blue eyes. He didn't even bother to play bashful like Peeta, that little smirk letting Katniss know he knew precisely how much he affected the feminine population.

"Let's just say…Peeta, you have competition."

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Ooooh, just what is Cato up to? LOL

**I'm looking at you, Story Alerters who never REVIEW :D **

If you left a review **anonymously**, please see below:

Anushka: Aww, thank you so much! I really appreciate your kind review :P Be sure to tell me what you think of this chapter!

**Kilani Heals**: No, YOU'RE sublime :P Your review was awesome, and I truly love it :) Please tell me what you think of this chapter too!

**TeamPeetaandKatniss**: I'm very flattered that a Peeta/Katniss shipper is reading my fic :P Cato? You'll see next chapter :) Please review and let me know what you think!

**Priscilla X. Silver**: Haha, I've taken your review into lots of consideration – and looky! He messes with her for an entire interview :P Review and tell me what you think!

**Anon**: LOL I hope this was long enough :P Thank you so much for your review! I hope you do tell me what you think of this chapter!

**Katia**: Aww, thank you! I hope you like this chapter too!

**Alyssa**: :P Even more yummy Cato next chapter :)

**Corrupted Angel**: LOL it's not just you, I swear the cinema heated up when Cato and Katniss exchanged those looks, I'm only letting off the secondary steam :P Thank you so much! I hope you let me know what you think of this chapter!

**NYCstarlet**: Thank you so much! Even though they don't do a face to face, please be sure to tell me if the chemistry is still there! :)

**Anon**: Hehe, I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long! Please, leave your feedback :P

**Hogwarts skittles addict**: Aww, thank you so much! Be sure to review and let me know what you think of this chapter! :P

**OneLiner**: I saw your review and squealed XD. EBDNDBKXBXJ please be sexually harassing the fic :P

**Scoco**: LOL aww, you pay me the biggest compliments :) I'll aim for 675, just for you :P I think you'll be the only reading it by then :P Please let me know what you think of this chapter!

Happy reading!

Natalily~


	4. Chapter 4

Exams are overrrr! Celebration :P This chappie is for all you amazing **reviewers** out there! I love you so much!

To everyone who complained about the chapters being short, here's an extra long one :P

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**Ab Initio**

**Chapter 4**

_Still backstage, Cato's interview._

Katniss turned furiously to Haymitch, but he shook his head before she could speak, eyes still fixed to the screen. He casually reached up to scratch his ear, but she knew better. _No_, he was saying, _Cato is doing his own God-knows little thing; and be careful, there are cameras, people, who can hear_. Even through her confusion, she could appreciate Haymitch's piercing intelligence. If this was the surface – oh yes, she definitely understood how he was a Victor.

She turned back for more, but _crap,_ she missed it, and Caesar is pumping Cato's fist in the air. The Capitol liked it, if their deafening roar was any indication. Half the stadium was screaming, "Cato, Cato!" and the other half was screaming "Katniss, Katniss!". No one called for Peeta.

A piece of paper pressed into her hand, and she glanced down. _After_. It said. She looked up to see Haymitch discreetly put away a pen. His mouth opened, but Effie chose that moment to totter in, and instead he issued a belch that curiously carried no echo of alcohol. His eyes crossed vaguely, and he slapped Peeta heartily on the back, and grinned toothily at him, before staggering heavily to his feet, stepping on her foot as he passed.

_Really?_ She groaned in mental exasperation. Couldn't he have found a less painful way to tell her he wanted her to leave with him now? It wasn't like he weighed the same as a fairy or anything. "I'm tired," she announced, yawning in emphasis, hobbling to her feet in a manner reminiscent of Haymitch's exit. She frowned when one of her throbbing toes popped as she curled them experimentally.

What she didn't see was the concern shining in Peeta's eyes when she winced. The way he almost rose off the couch when she stumbled on her outrageous heels.

* * *

She found Haymitch in the hallway of the penthouse suite, grinning creepily at a hissing kitty. "Come here, kitty kitty…" he extended a finger. And the cute little kitty bit it. He straightened, sighing. And his eyes were…_sad?_ She blinked, and it was gone.

He turned to her. "It's not going to work," he announced. She blinked. "The whole, love struck District 12 yadda, yadda nonsense. It won't work." His voice was thick with meaning. Katniss fell back a step. "No," she whispered, her hand flying to her throat. "I _won't do it_."

"You have to." There was no remorse in his voice. "Peeta is as good as dead. The Capitol might buy this love triangle shit for a while, but in the end, they want you and that boy from 2. We already know how this will end – it will come down to you and the boy. Peeta will die, Katniss, the sooner you see it, the easier it will be. Peeta is no survivor. _You are._" There it was again. That sadness in his eyes, even as his voice was hard as flint.

She shook her head wildly, irrational, heart leaping in her throat. She couldn't throw Peeta to the wolves. When it mattered most, he was still the boy with bread who had once saved her. "But Peeta and I have almost all the sponsors! We can win!"

Then he was right in front of her, face contorted with anger. "Do you have any idea how stupid you sound? _There can only be one fucking survivor._ Get that into your head! If it came down to you and Peeta, what would you do? Commit duel suicide, eh? Scoff some nightlock berries? _You_ have half the sponsors. Cato, the other half. Play love struck with him and when it comes down to the end, _kill him_. You _have _to win this, Katniss."

Decades of grief stared from his mad eyes, the guilt of too many tributes that stained his soul echoed from his voice. The air that left him even as he breathed hard with exertion was tainted with the last breaths of too many that he'd mentored.

"Join the Career pack, Katniss. I would do anything so I don't break your promise to your mother." His voice broke. "I would –"

"Wait what?" Her head was whirling. He'd promised her…mother? "What are you talking about? What did you promise my mother? How do you even _know _her?"

Haymitch's eyes misted. "I grew up with your mother. She was…she was the most radiant creature…" Some faraway light she'd never seen before softened his eyes. "Beautiful…kind, all the boys were head over heels for her. And then she married your father. And they were so in love, so happy, and then had you, had Prim…when your father died, Katniss, it broke my heart too, because your mother all but died with him. Her love for you, for Prim, for her husband, was so strong, so pure. That day at his funeral, Katniss, I held her listless hand, and I promised her.

"_I promised her_. That I wouldn't ever let another of her loved ones die."

Katniss almost gaped. How could this be Haymitch? Intensely protective, eloquent and…coherent? So then and there, she grabbed his hand and fiercely promised him "I _am_ going to win this. For my mother, for your promise. _For Prim_. But Haymitch?

"_You mark my words. _When it comes down to it, there is _nothing_ you can do to make _me_ kill Peeta. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever. _Even if only because he is the boy with bread who once saved me_."

She stared into his eyes for the longest moment, and they exchanged short nods. He looked away. Studied the wall behind her. She released the death grip she had on his hand, and then he was clearing his throat, muttering a goodnight and leaving. Katniss sat heavily upon an eminently uncomfortable chair. _Shiiite_. Haymitch was in love with her mother?

* * *

She'd pressed the remote and changed her entire bedroom wall to a forest scenery, lying on her bed and listening to the beautiful sounds of the birds. She tried to pretend they were real, that they weren't coming from the loudspeaker in the corner. She wanted to believe she was lying on a bed of springy moss with the burble and gurgle of a little creek nearby. And most of all, she wanted to believe Peeta hadn't saved her that day, that everything he symbolised wasn't a kindness and a debt that had never been repaid.

She wanted to believe she could still save him.

She ignored the quiet knock on her door, ignoring when it opened, and ignored the footsteps that paused at her bed. She didn't look when Peeta sat on her bed and looked at her, the mattresses too well mannered to squeal and groan. For she knew it was Peeta. In the years that followed after that day in the rain, she had watched him, noticing him for the first time. She'd become acquainted to that shuffling second step, and the sound it made when he brushed the flour off his trousers. He was doing it now, too, mayhap out of nervousness. Tomorrow, after all, was the beginning of the end.

He lay down beside her, and she involuntarily shifted closer to his warmth. They lay in companionable silence for the longest while, both thinking about what entailed with the rising of the sun tomorrow. Katniss hesitated to speak, to break that sweet silence.

"Peeta…do you think our families would still recognise us if we made it back? Will we be animals after this?" She rolled to her side propped her head up, staring into his blue, blue eyes. "Yesterday I dreamed…I dreamed that I'd won. I dreamed I was on the Victory tour in 12, and I was standing there in front of Prim – and I was so, so happy!" Clear tears tracked down her face. "Yet all she did was stand there. When I went to hold her, she pulled back, Peeta, and she looked at me. And in her eyes there was…there was _fear_. She called me _murderer_."

He offered up that sweet, sad little smile of his, and raised his hand, brushing the errant locks tenderly off her forehead. "You're no murderer. The Games can't change me and can't change _you_. It can only make you _think_ that it has."

When Katniss lay down again, she rested her head across his warm chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. Her voice came out muffled. "Haymitch said-"

Peeta cut in, "I know what Haymitch said. And I agree. You should join the Career pack. Out of all of us, you have the most desire to win, the most purpose to fulfil. I know I will die." A self mocking little note flavoured his words.

Katniss jerked up. "_Don't say that_." She whispered fiercely. "I'm going to keep you alive, Peeta. You saved my life once, and I owe you at least that much. If joining the Careers is what it will take to pay back that debt, then so be it. But don't forget. _I will join them for that debt._ For _you_."

And Peeta lay there, coaxing her head back onto his chest, stroking her hair in wistfulness. _A debt is all that I am to her_, he thinks_. _Somehow, he also thinks he should have known, and some part of his heart breaks a little. But he goes on loving her.

* * *

Later that night, Katniss dangled her legs off the rooftop, trying to come up with a plan to keep Peeta alive. If only Cato hadn't cashed in on _her_ and _Peeta's_ sponsors! Just thinking of Cato filled her with righteous indignation. He filled her with something foreign that she didn't want, and then he demanded what couldn't be given. Her secrets. The façade she kept for the. Damn Cato to hell! Even when he wasn't here physically, he was in her head. Messing with her mind. _Breathe, Katniss, think_. There was very little time until the other tributes would be retiring to their beds. It meant there wasn't much time, and it was now or never to make that pact.

She stepped into the elevator, and firmly pressed the button engraved with a _2_. As the elevator whirred to life, she leaned against one cool wall, trying to think of ways to cajole Cato into letting her join the Careers. But her anger kept rushing back to her, that it was Cato's fault Peeta's chances at surviving were miniscule. His fault that she now had to swallow her pride and come begging. _But_, she reminded herself, _this is just to get you out alive. You're playing power games for the debt. For Prim._

The elevator _dinged_ and a mechanical voice announced she was on Level two. She stepped out and took a deep breath. _For Prim_, she reminded herself. _And for the debt_. She couldn't bring herself add _for Peeta_. She had to win this. There was only one Victor, and she had to take that Crown. For mother, for Haymitch, for Gale and for Prim.

She navigated the neatly labelled doors with ease, and soon found herself staring at beautiful, redwood door engraved with _District Two; Boy_. She knocked. No answer. Knocked again. Nothing. She tried the door knob, and upon finding it unlocked, swung it open.

And stared.

Cato stood with his back to her, _naked_ to the waist, where a flimsy towel sat loosely on his hips. She swallowed. White ear buds on fine white cords travelled to his ears, and she remembered someone who'd been to the Capitol describe them before. _Portable music players_. Or something like that. _Damn_, even his back was sexy.

Golden muscles rippled as he reached over to his nightstand and strapped on his watch, completely oblivious to her. Everything from his tousled, wet hair to the rivulets of water meandering to his tapered waist gave her a dry mouth. That pissed her off greatly, irritating her that she was so susceptible. _It's just a boy, Katniss, really, get over it_. She stalked forward and yanked out his ear buds.

And started yelling at him.

"What the hell, Cato! You barely know me and then you tell all Panem you've been harbouring some kind of secret crush on me through training?" Damn. That was so not how she'd planned to start. His eyes glittered dangerously, and a little voice piped up uneasily in her brain. _Stop_, it whispered. _Leave now. _But irrationality coursed red hot though her veins, fuelled by the anger that even _now_, she was still acutely aware of his chiselled abs, his tapered waist and...everything...

"You _snivelling coward_, leeching sponsors from Peeta and I. You –"

Stopped with a gasp when he raised one hand and placed it at her throat, backing her to the bed. "Get off me," she snarled, shoving him back. As he relented a step and let go of her, she breathed in relief. Vulnerability was not her thing. But even as the muscles in her legs flickered to try and edge out, to sidestep him, he was in front of her like lightning, a blur of golden muscle as he toppled her knees, and then pinioned her to the bed with his weight.

Something sparked in those icy blue eyes. "You were saying?" She saw it for what it was. Yet another power game, that he was so adept at winning. "I _said_, you were a coward. Resorting to pinning defenceless girls to your bed because that's the only way you can get them." He shifted against her, and she tried to suppress a moan at the feel of silken, hot steel move above her, somehow shifting between her legs, where nothing but a wisp of towel and her own thin pants separated them.

"Is that so?" He whispered huskily. "Explain your moaning if you're not hot for me."

"That wasn't _moaning!_ That was the air leaving my lungs because you're so intent on squishing the life out of me! I'm _not hot for you_." She gritted out. "And it's also not the point. The point is that you need to _get off me_." With that, she bucked up, intending to dislodge him, thrashing against him. It was like an ant trying to pick a fight with a watermelon. He barely reacted, and didn't budge in the least. _Godammit! _This was so not going the way she'd planned! By now, they should be cordially shaking hands at a newly formed bargain with her departing. In one last attempt, she thrashed out blindly with the leg that wasn't under him, barely noticing when her foot caught on fabric and yanked it.

"Fuck" he hissed, hands fisting on either side of her head.

She had just torn off his towel.

* * *

Mm, I promised more Cato, didn't I?

Still looking at you **Story Alerters **who never** REVIEW** :D

If you reviewed **anonymously**, please see below:

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**Anna: **Aaah, YOU'RE so great :P And yes, wouldn't we all wish to kiss the devil out of Cato? LOL I hope you like this chapter!

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Natalily~


	5. Chapter 5

I love you all, you're abso-freaking-lutely amazing.

I swear, no more camps.

**ALSO BEFORE YOU READ...well let's just say I had to have a LOT of help from other fic buddies writing this chapter...the first scene is well, barely mine. It kind of makes me blush. Kind of. And it's got a lot of swearing. Sorry.**

* * *

**Ab Initio**

**Chapter 5**

_The towel incident, Cato's bedroom._

She was breathing hard beneath him, trying to look indifferent even as she cursed the hot flush she could feel suffusing her cheeks. She could feel him too, hard and fiery precisely where she burned the hottest. When she dared to look up, his eyes glittered dangerously at her, darkening to an undiluted cerulean as her tongue involuntarily darted out to wet her lips. He lowered his head to one ear, and she tilted her head to better hear what she he was going to whisper to her.

He bit her earlobe.

When she let out a gasp of indignation, he sucked it between his soft lips and soothed it with a hot lick. Her moan was a husky plea. Her brain flashed in one last flare of warning before proceeding to shut down completely in sensory overload. One hand had found her breast, palming with consummate tingles from where he lay naked atop her promptly inflamed, arrowing to where he rocked softly between her legs.

She was a liquid mess, completely incapable of doing anything other than watch as he undid the buttons of her thin shirt. His gaze flickered up, filtering through his illegally long lashes, and a little smirk tipped his lips. "So shy," he murmured, stroking the satin of her rosy cheeks.

She clung to his hot, buttery smooth shoulder, averting her face as he opened her shirt. Now he knew that the flush had painted her breasts in blushing colour too. He filled a hand with one heavy, satiny globe, and every oversensitive nerve plunged into overdrive. She shifted unconsciously against him, trying to put out that foreign fire between her legs, moaning. He shifted up against her to nibble the soft skin at her throat – pressing even more firmly at the apex of her legs.

Then it happened all at once. His lips moved to _just that spot_ on her throat, something hot and smooth laving her pulse – and then he was pressed hot and hard against the seam of her pants where the slightest rocking of his hips - _"yessss"_, she hissed, arching. Something in her clenched to breaking point.

And shattered. Into a million heavenly, sated little shards. A cry of surprise escaped her.

He lifted his head. "Easy trigger, Girl on Fire?" he smirked. She stared at him with uncomprehending eyes. Slowly, so slowly, the fog of pleasure lifted from her brain. _Damn, fuck, damn_. She cursed herself. Here he was again. Playing with her mind like a puppeteer. Dammit, at this rate, she was going to be the most scatterbrained creature in the arena.

She shifted her hand discreetly over his heart – the rapid beating bolstered her hastily formulated plan. It was time to do some messing of her own.

She ran one slender calf down the back of his legs, shifting her hands against his sculpted chest and exploring one flat, male nipple. Surprise flared in his blue eyes. She took advantage of his shock and flipped him neatly onto his back, straddling his trim waist and his…_dear lord_…A desperate groan tore through him, and at that instant she knew. She held the strings, and he was her dancing puppet, be damned the fact she was just as affected as he. He opened his mouth to say something, but she swept down in a tangle of need, claiming his mouth. Exhilaration swept through her – and something addictive clung sweetly to the edges.

Power.

His arms swept up around her, his hands greedy for everything. Tangling in her hair, running down her sides…Somewhere along the way, they'd somehow managed to tear off her pants, and his fingers played at the edge of her panties, before –

"_Fuck"_ he hissed, and stilled. Strong hands suddenly seized her waist and lifted her up off him and planted her firmly on the bed in a sitting position. In a blur of motion, he rose with his back to her and swept up his discarded towel from the floor, knotting it firmly at his hips. As much as she hated herself for doing it, Katniss craned her neck, hoping for a sneak peek at that which she'd _felt_ but not _seen_. No such luck.

He swung back to her, his icy eyes a turbulent storm as it whipped through her. "Stay _put_." He intoned harshly, before striding right back to the bathroom.

Curiously, she felt no shame. No guilt for sexing up the enemy. She'd told herself so many times she'd almost started to believe it. Because this was all for an ulterior cause. Peeta. Getting him out alive. And her. In the end, this would all be a distant dream, and she would be the District 12 Victor. She desperately tried to convince herself that she was completely in control of the situation, that Cato didn't spark something in her that…consumed her. She couldn't think right when he was around. She found herself thinking about him when she didn't want to think about him.

And being in his arms…it was so _wrong_ that it felt…_right_.

As she was putting on her clothes, the shower turned on. What in the world could he possibly be doing? Hadn't he just showered? A groan emanated from behind the door. She berated herself for doing so, but she couldn't help it. She pressed her ear to the door. _"Shiiiiiit"_, she heard him hiss. "Fuck, Katniss," a blush hit her full force. She didn't want to think what was going on in there. Just as she was about to leave him to do whatever he was…doing, he continued "…stop listening at bathroom doors."

She could hear the smirk in his voice. Damn him for setting the trap. Damn herself for falling for it. But when he came out, his clothes were buttoned to the chin, and any minimal area of exposed skin was faintly tinged with blue.

Well, at least she knew she'd messed his head right back.

The first thing she received was a frosty glare probably the same temperature as the shower he'd just been under. "Let's get to the point" he all but snarled at her. "Why did you barge in?" Moment of truth. She lifted her head up defiantly, exuding a confidence she didn't feel. "I want to join the Careers. Join you." He blinked. "Okay."

She blinked back at him. "What? That's it? Okay?" He tilted his head. "Isn't that what you came for? The okay to join us?". Well, _yes_, but she wasn't expecting it to be _that_ easy. She sat back down on the bed. There had to be something wrong. Was it because they viewed Peeta as a threat? Thought that they could use her to track him down, kill him? No, she reasoned. It was because with that 11 she'd scored, they viewed _her_ as a threat. She looked up at him. "Would you have hunted me down, killed me first if I hadn't offered to join?"

"Yes." Unyielding. Unapologetic.

"I'm a hunter. A strong ally. I can forage for food where you would find naught."

"I know."

"Therefore I come with a price. No. Killing. Peeta." Something slippery darted through his eyes, but she dismissed it "Deal. No killing Peeta" he repeated. She shook his proffered hand. But as she made her way back to her own room…somehow she couldn't stop the feeling of dread. That she'd somehow just place Peeta in more danger that ever – but how could she have? Cato had just promise not to kill him.

Yet it lingered.

* * *

She woke the next morning to fingers tenderly stroking the hair off her forehead, but when she opened her eyes to a certain Peeta perched on her bed, holding out a creamy brown concoction in a mug, his hands were firmly kept to himself. She took the mug, dismissing it as a remnant of her dream.

And did not see the way he brushed his fingers across his own lips.

The liquid was frothy yet decadent, hot and rich as it slid down her throat. _Delicious_. She'd never had anything to compare. Peeta found a smile tugging at his lips despite himself as she drained the dregs of her hot chocolate, his hands involuntarily reaching forward to brush off the milky froth adorning the tip of her nose. His eyes met hers, and his heart clenched. He wished they had more time, that with it, she might have come to love him back. He leaned in, and softly touched his lips to her forehead. Inhaling the beautiful scent that made her _Katniss_.

And Haymitch just had to stumble and ruin the moment.

"Alright you's! Stop smooching, today's the big day!" He had even managed a modicum of enthusiasm in his voice. Katniss knew not how – but she surmised it was to keep the façade for Effie who was presently tutting at them disapprovingly. As she and Peeta left the bedroom to prepare, she glanced at Haymitch. All she saw was disappointment.

The next few hours were one big, running blur, and all too soon she was standing in that clear, glass tube that spelled her grisly fate – whether fate willed she lived or died. Cinna nodded at her, fisting his hand over his chest. She sank to her knees as the tube rose, trying to catch one last glance of Cinna before she likely would never see him again. But she couldn't afford to think like that. She glanced across the arena, where all 23 other tributes had risen. They may as well be 23 carcasses, because in the end?

She _was_ going home.

The voice started counting down. "…6…5...4 –" _Boom_. Clearly someone's mentor hadn't done their job. A cannon rumbled in the distance, outlining the fate of a poor tribute who'd stepped off the plate too early. She didn't notice the wild streak of blood on her cheek from the flying…_human_ debris.

Because she'd spotted the bow. Her eyes caught Cato and Clove's across the arena. Both gave a single nod.

"…1."

She made a beeline through the grass for the bow and arrows, diving as one knife spun too close for her comfort and thudded a bare inch from her head. She glanced to see that the District 9 boy who'd thrown it reach into his backpack for another. Gripping the handle of the dagger, she yanked the blade out of the earth and hurled it.

His eyes widened momentarily to see the knife embedded deep in his chest. The boom of his cannon was lost in the bloodbath, and he fell to be trampled by eager feet. She swept down and swung a nearby back pack onto her shoulder, picking up the bow and arrows; revelling in the _control_ and _power_ that shimmered through her veins. Oh _yes_. She was going home alright.

She strode to where District 9 had fallen, and yanked the knife out of his chest. To her, the arterial spray didn't even register, because suddenly, all she could see was the little District 11 girl who reminded her of _Prim_ held at knifepoint by a taunting boy. The light in his eyes told her he _revelled_ the power he held over a defenceless little girl. Before the disgust had even registered in her, he had fallen to the ground, dead. If only his wide, glassy eyes could see that it was her knife that protruded from his throat, drenched in the blood of another.

_That was for Prim._

The little girl looked up. Katniss screamed at her, pointing to the forest, "Go!" The little girl turned and fled.

Katniss strung her bow and shot a girl who'd just knifed the little boy from District 7. Restrung and shot her district partner who'd laughed and cheered the crazy bitch on as she had plunged her knife into the little body that lay prostrate on the ground. Over, and over again. She knelt to pick up a stray knife from the bloody grass, and a shadow fell over her. She looked up.

Cato stood over her, sword raised high.

**IN CASE YOU HADN'T READ IT, HERE'S A REPETITION...well let's just say I had to have a LOT of help from other fic buddies writing this chapter...the first scene is well, barely mine. It kind of makes me blush. Kind of. And it's got a lot of swearing. Sorry.**

* * *

Oo, what's he doing? You find out when we reach **444 REVIEWS**.

**I hope you read the AN at the top ;D It's the second last review goal for this exam block - your reviews keep me motivated to keep updating through exams :D**

As for Cato and Katniss…it's not like I've had sexual experiences, so I'm not quite sure if it happens like that :P I'm going off instinct and sex ed lessons :D

Everyone who read it **REVIEW** for the next chapter to come quick! *Menacing whisper* _**Story Alerters who never review…**_

If you reviewed **anonymously**, please see below:

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**Kilani Heals: **I'm so sorry that this one came so late, and I broke my promise. Forgive me? I also hope this was enough Cato to satisfy you ;D And I admit, it wasn't the best simile I ever made…LOL Please do drop a review and let me know what you thought!

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**Curiousitylemmego: **Mm, Cato is a hottie, isn't he? Esp. only in a towel. Had to fan myself at the image LOL. Do drop a review and let me know what you think of this chapter!

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**Rayn: **Thank you so much for you awesome review! As to your questions…you'll have to wait and see mwahahahaha :P I hope you like this chapter! Please review and let me know! :)

Natalily~


	6. Chapter 6

Hey guys! See! I kept my promise and updated the very next day :D You so amazing! Thank you so much – I love you all! Exams finished yesterday – I'm just bad at calculating ;D That means it's back to the normal review and update!

Thank you so much for bearing with moi! THIS CHAPPIE IS TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED AND ALL YOU OTHER READERS!

**ALSO I PROBABLY TOOK OFF A COUPLE OF YEARS DUE TO SWEARING, BUT YOU KNOW, AT LEAST IT WASN'T OUT LOUD ;P**

* * *

**Ab Initio**

**Chapter 6**

_In the Arena, at the Cornucopia bloodbath._

Katniss closed her eyes. There was no way he could miss at point blank range – sadly, she wasn't even surprised he'd turn back on his word. She heard the whistle of the blade as it arced through the air, and the sickening crunch of bone as it found its destination. She felt a hot spray, and knew he'd just killed her. Death was very…painless, she surmised curiously.

"Are you going to keep staying on your knees and worshipping me?" Her eyelids jerked open. Cato stood impatiently in front of her. _What?_ Her head whipped around, and was greeted with the truncated body of a coward who'd snuck up behind her. Her eyes zoned onto his knife lay useless in his hand, so she reached over and retrieved it in some kind of clinical detachment. All she thought was _no need for a perfectly good blade to go to waste_. Oh yes, she'd registered the boy's lifeblood that stained the grass, stained _her_, and the fact his head was _fucking chopped off_, but her brain was strangely clear.

It just said, _get the knife_. And so she had. And now it said _get off you knees. _

Blade in one hand and bow in the other, she rose off her bloody knees, standing tall as she surveyed the figures of the fallen with all the emotion one would expect when watering a plant. Cato's reluctant respect for her rose a notch. Not that he hadn't respected her skills before – only a moron would dismiss them, but at least with the stone cold side of her on show, he was less tempted to jump her bones.

Maybe.

Her chin lifted. "Well? What are you waiting for?" He glanced at her, his face marred with a smear of blood across one high cheekbone. It made him look somehow more gorgeous, more dangerous, and…more feral. He snatched the blade out of her hand and threw it away. "Hey!" She cried out, angry he'd virtually chucked a weapon away. And then from the corner of her eye, she saw a little figure collapse.

Her eyes widened, and she subconsciously yanked Cato along with her to see who it was that fell. It was another one of those young ones that had entered the Games, the ones people always felt the injustice for. And this one? This one looked like a mini Gale. His big eyes were panicked, his chest rising and falling as he reached for her hand. "It hurts," he whimpered, his hand clenching around hers as he tried to breathe around the knife in his ribs. The knife that Cato had thrown.

He was so young. And his dark hair, the slight freckles…he even smelled like sunshine in the midst of the blood and death, the way Gale always had. Involuntarily, her other hand reached out to comfort him, stroking his cheek the way she would when Prim scraped her knees. "Shhh," she whispered, "it's okay – it'll be over soon, I promise, it –" She screamed.

An arrow had sunk deep into his throat, and the distant boom of the cannon announced his death as much as the glass that glazed his eyes. All she registered was that the boy who reminded her of sunshine, of _Gale_, had been murdered in front of her, and Cato stood over his dead body, his hand still holding the arrow he'd just stabbed the child with.

"What did you do?" She screamed at him. She raised bloody hands in accusation. "You killed him! You murdering bastard, you fucking coward, you child killer. Did you enjoy it too? Did you fucking _like it_ when you killed him?" She stood up, shoving him, gratified when he stumbled back a step. "You killed a fucking _child_ and you can still stand there? How can you still…still…!" Words failed, and anger flushed her with hot colour.

He slanted her a bored glance. "He would have died anyway. Would you rather it had been Clove, who _plays with her food_? Or Marvel, who _cuts it all up into very little pieces?_ Perhaps Glimmer – who _spears it lengthwise and then skins it?_" Damn him for making sense. Damn him that she couldn't even blame him for killing a child. And damn the Games for doing this to her. "Fuck you!" she yelled at him, feeling the last vestiges of her futile anger evaporating. Hot, fat tears lingered in her eyes, but she blinked them away. It'd be a frozen day in Hell before she'd let him see her tears.

He cocked his head. "It's the Hunger Games. There can only be one survivor, and I don't plan on dying." Yeah. As if she fucking didn't know _that_ line. "Neither do I."

Their eyes locked. For a long moment, nothing but heat sizzled between them. Suddenly, his eyes darted away from her, and then he was bringing his hand up to caress her cheek. "I'm sorry. Are you alright? Did that boy hurt you at all with his knife?" He asked tenderly, tucking a curl behind her ear.

What the – oh _fuck_. Those cameras. How could she have forgotten? She couldn't even be angry when she fucking wanted to. Haymitch's voice played like a broken record around her head. _Play lovers with Cato. Play lovers with Cato. Play…_she brought her hand up to cover his and nuzzled into his warm palm. "Thank you," she whispered, as though the arm he'd just snaked around her waist was the only thing that kept her from falling to the ground.

The Capitol cheered in delight, the Girl on Fire was apparently moving on to a more suitable lover. Some women sighed romantically and fanned themselves, that the dangerous, bad (and damn gorgeous) boy had apparently let down his guard, showed the world his tenderly loving side. If only they knew…he had no tender, loving side. How could he? It had been beaten out of him too long ago – it was, after all, a weakness.

Was it not?

* * *

Katniss sighed, ducking as she evaded yet another branch intent on back whipping her as Clove forged ahead of her. She could feel Glimmer's glare drilling holes into her back as Cato walked beside her. This was going well. Clove was steadily ignoring her. Glimmer was consuming her energy formulating murder plots. Marvel was too busy trying to check out his reflection in each passing drop of dew. The scrawny boy from District 4 they'd collected along the way appeared to be trying to herald their existence to everyone in a mile's radius – and Cato was just…Cato.

An hour in, they found another tribute, and Katniss turned her face away and thought about home when Clove giggled something about knives and _having a bit of fun first_. A long, drawn out scream could then be heard for miles around. It shrieked out again. And again. And it never stopped, ringing in her ears even as night fell and they set up camp beside a lake.

The fire crackled viciously, lunging out to ensnare any unwitting hands, spitting embers at those who sat too far away. _That's what I'm supposed to be like. _Katniss thought numbly to herself. _Vicious. Feral. But instead, I'm –_ someone grabbed her by the chin and kissed her.

All slimy tongue and saliva.

"Eugh!" She exclaimed, wrenching away from the stranger, kneeing him in…unsavoury places before kicking him down. Marvel. Who was still wearing a smirk on his creepy little face. "What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing, little creep?" She loomed over him, backlit by flames, the dagger she'd stowed in her boot glinting silver in her hand. Cato had stood up behind her, flicking a knife through his long fingers, huge over Marvel's cowering figure.

And all they fucking exuded was _power couple_.

The smirk dimmed a little, replaced with fear.

He scooted away from her, sulking in a corner. But when no one was watching, his beady little eyes darted toward Cato, and a sly little grin curled his lips. What had he seen that no one else had? The glint of anger in Cato's eyes when Marvel had kissed her. Katniss had missed it – but Marvel hadn't.

After all, he'd been searching for it.

* * *

Everyone talked in whispered conversations the rest of the night. They cast mystified looks at the Girl on Fire whose heavy scowl stared deep into the heart of the fire, flanked by her deadly suitor. She was so…different. The boy from 4 whispered about seeing her shoot one of the girls and her district partner. She'd looked like an _avenging angel_, burning under the sun as she punished the child-killers.

Some one else added they'd seen her dodge death by _inches_, before hitting her attacker straight in the heart with the _very dagger he'd thrown._ And this afternoon, when they were scouting for a lake – had she not quietly squirreled up a tree and then directed them to this very spot? If she'd shown consummate skill for hunting, killing and survival in so short a period of time…

What else was she capable of?

Clove sharpened her knife on a stone, eyeing up Katniss' warily still figure. The way her hand was still yet clenched around her bow, never letting down her guard. Clove decided Katniss was better off as an ally. The boy from District 4 didn't decide about the Girl on Fire at all. He just shivered and curled into himself, happy to still be alive.

Glimmer absently curled a lock of hair around her finger and sized up Katniss. Her eyes slid to Cato, who was looking moody in a way that made a girl want to jump his bones. Then it fell upon his hand, resting loosely beside Katniss' hip, not quite touching, but possessive all the same. That was when she decided that the last thing Katniss was – was her ally.

And Marvel…Marvel glanced at Cato – and something sly darted slippery as an eel through his eyes.

That evening, Cato took first watch, in case any of the other tributes were thinking any interesting thoughts. Katniss dragged her sleeping bag to an open patch of grass where a sliver of sky could be seen, starry in its silvery splendour. Even though she knew it was fake. She turned and tossed, but she could feel every rock, and that _fucking tendril _of the fake Capitol scent that wrapped around her, poisoning her. Whe she finally fell into a fitful slumber, she dreamed. She dreamed of Peeta, finding him in the Arena, smiling at him, hugging him close to her, and stabbing him in the back.

She jerked awake, gasping for air. _No_, she'd _never_ do that. She could never kill the boy with bread who once saved her life. Never backstab him even as she smiled in the pleasure of feeling the life flow upon her hands. Fuck the fact it felt so _real_, that she'd fucking _liked_ it – killing him. The Games must've be messing with her mind. No way, she told herself savagely. _No fucking way._

"Bad dream?"

Katniss jerked around to see Cato watching guard – watching _her_. She felt the breath leave her lungs. For the first time, she'd looked at him. _Really_ looked at him. And he was perfect. Sans smirk, he was heartbreakingly beautiful, half his face gilded in silvery light, the other plunged into a smoky mystery. His hair was soft, a silky silver in the moonlight – and there was something in his eyes, in the way he looked at her.

Something soft and ethereal. Something vulnerable, and a little sad. When she nodded, he laid his hand over hers. And for some reason…this once…

It felt real.

* * *

Mm, so what _is_ Cato up to? And more importantly…what is _Marvel _up to? So many questions…and you get to find out the answers if you review ;D

Sorry it's a bit shorter than usual, but know this: **If EVERY SINGLE PERSON who reads REVIEWS then we get a nice long chapter **in spite of the assignment I'm supposed to be doing right now :D

**STORY ALERTERS…review! ;P **As much as I'd like to be pissed, I still love you ;D

Mm, got flamed by one person for replying to all my anonymous reviewers :( So I'm trying a new system. **Be sure to tell me in your reviews if you prefer me to answer in a group like now or individually like I did before. **

**My anonymous reviewers I LOVE YOU! This includes:**

**Kilani Heals, The reviewer, Mamacitathatsallthewordsikno w, ilovegreensocks, Hot After Reading This Chapter, Teeter, ytssssjjjjjjaja, Ab initio lover, Annie, Fia, GB, anon, gabey, highwayaisle128, Siria, LaaaDeeDaa, Remmy, A, Princess, Trace Me, HeidiTurtles, curiousitylemmego, anon, bandgeek, lalaloopsy, SomeSunshiness, anon, Me, apple, Lily, kato4ever, Meganyet again, edwardlover, anon, anon, AN, justafan, Juliette, anon, Blahblahblah, **

Each and every reviewer, especially Kilani Heals and the anonymous reviewer who spammed (I love you to bits) you were amazing, and I truly appreciated you kind words and amazing reviews :D

Natalily~


	7. Chapter 7

My darling hunnybunnys! I'm so sorry for not updating earlier – you see, well, this chapter was so hard to write! I wanted it to be perfect for my darling reader who had waited so long (sorry!) but it just wasn't working! But yes, here it is – let me know what you think of it!

JUST SO YOU KNOW this chapter is dedicated, well, to everyone who reads _Ab Initio_, but especially to my super faithful anonymous reviewer whose name I only know as 'Guest' – but yes, you kept me going after all the deleting-the-crap-chapter-and-restarting and hair ripping :P

**WARNING: lots of swearing again, I find I'm developing a knack of swearing in my writing. Soz.**

* * *

**Ab Initio**

**Chapter 7**

_In the Arena, at the Careers camp._

Katniss woke as the first touches of sunlight dappled through the canopy, and her hand automatically moved for her knife. She closed her hand around the – _fuck_ – where was it? Her head whipped around – if any of the other tributes managed the get their hands on _her_ weapon – a flash of silver caught her eye.

Cato lounged lazily at the mouth of the camp, absently flicking her knife through his long, lithe fingers. "Missing something?" He taunted. She reached over and filched one of Clove's multiple knives – she wouldn't even notice it was missing.

"Nope," she replied, and stashed it in her belt, nonchalantly rising and brushing the dirt from her trousers. She picked up the bottle beside her and tossed back the remnants of her bottle, wincing at the weird, slightly bitter, metallic tang, spitting out what she hadn't reflexively swallowed. Even the water in the Arena tasted corrupted, a bitter film washing over her senses.

She missed the displeasure that flickered through his eyes – all he saw was that she'd just messed up a prime opportunity to play out a little anecdote for the Capitol. There was no such thing as too much support.

He uncoiled from his guard and threw the knife at Marvel's head, who jerked awake, yelping in pain as the razor blade of the knife caught on the edge of his ear. His gaze whipped to Cato, who towered over him just as he had last night when Marvel had kissed Katniss. Cato grinned at him. Or rather, bared his teeth.

"Get up."

* * *

Glimmer stumbled as her foot caught on a protruding branch, and would have surely sprained her ankle if not for a hand that had shot out and steadied her. Katniss traced the hand back to its owner. Cato. An irrational frisson of annoyance darted through her, but she dismissed it on the grounds Glimmer was a potential enemy who would be eradicated more easily had she been injured prior.

It didn't quite explain why she felt her hands tremble with the need to accidentally shove Glimmer off a stone as they crossed a stream later. A very shallow stream, with nice, hard rocks in it that were bound to hurt.

Katniss squeezed her eyes shut, and then opened them – but the confusion was still a living beast within her. Her knuckles clenched white and for a moment she laboured to breathe. Why was this so fucking difficult? She was just supposed to get _out_, goddamnit, just get out of this nightmare, damn the consequences! She wasn't supposed to _care_, she wasn't supposed to give a flying fuck for Peeta, or that tiny girl that reminded her of Prim – and not – not _Cato!_

It had been so clear cut in her mind when she'd arrived at the Capitol. Charm them, kill as little as possible and get the hell out. Now?

Something about this, something about Cato was weakening her, killing her resolve – and she really, _really_ needed to do something about it. She breathed deeply, envisioning Prim. Her head cleared slightly, but there was a mist in her brain, something that felt a little…drugging. In sudden panic, she remembered her water had tasted strange. Were the Gamemakers up to something?

But it didn't matter – nothing mattered if she couldn't do something about it, and if she'd drank it already – there was nothing she could do other than carry on. And what she desperately _didn't_ need to do was accidentally do something like lead them to Peeta. Her nimble fingers quickly filched a torn scrap of clothing from a twig and stuffed it in her pocket – if it was Peeta's, she wasn't taking chances.

* * *

They'd trekked for a good two hours, no one quite sure what they were doing – and funnily enough it was that silent boy from District 4 who ended up timidly breaking the silence. "Should we…split up? It might be faster to k-kill the other tributes…" he faltered, unsure. Involuntarily, everyone looked to Cato, who glanced down at him contemplatively, the unequivocal leader. He nodded shortly.

"More efficient. Katniss, come with me. Glimmer, stay with Clove and you two pair up." He waved dismissively at Marvel and the boy from 4. "We'll meet at base camp tomorrow night. You don't show up by nightfall, you're assumed dead. Got it?"

His verdict was swift and sure with no room for dissent despite the glare Glimmer shot at Katniss. Everyone began shuffling in different directions. Katniss felt like she was moving in a dream – why was everything a little hazy around the edges, and so detached?

"Come," he ordered, grabbing Katniss' wrist. She yanked it away as heat flared up her pulse. God, when had it become so warm in here? What was wrong with her? She noticed the way his clothes clung to his torso, the way his dishevelled hair fell _just _so into his eyes – why couldn't she concentrate? She felt so dizzy.

His perceptive eyes noted everything but he didn't comment, knowing she'd be alarmed and wary to know he'd picked up on any weakness – Lord, why did _he_ know _her_ so well? He reminded himself that this was for his district's honour. And maybe…maybe his father would smile. Like he used to. Before his mother had died.

* * *

"Bird?" He offered, sticking out a wing from the prey she'd shot just before nightfall. She registered that the wind was blowing louder and theoretically she should be getting chillier and chillier, but she felt so _warm_. Hot, even. She caught a warning look in his eyes and an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Fine. He wanted to do something for the Capitol. So she played along and shook her head.

"Honey." Why did her heart skip a beat at the endearment? Even when she knew it couldn't be anything but false? He shifted an arm about her shoulders, and – _God_, why was it was so fucking hot in here? What was with her? She felt positively feverish! He leaned in and her breathing spiked. He smelled like musk and sunshine and death and…a paradox. He just smelled like Cato. Addictive.

She swallowed. He leaned down, pressing a small kiss below her ear, dotting butterfly kisses on her creamy throat. He grazed his way across her jawline, his nose nudging up her chin. His hands rose up to caress her waist, one thumb skimming the underside of her breast, breath hot against her.

And bit down on her pulse, stroking across it in a velvety caress with his hot tongue.

Her lungs seized. Her heartbeat stuttered. If he did that again, she was going to die. She forced her hands to move up to his soft, soft hair and tugged him away. "Honey." He repeated, as though incredulous. "You even fucking _taste_ like honey." He released a ragged groan and shoved a hand through his hair, a dishevelled, frustrated fallen angel. Her tongue involuntarily darted out to sweep across her parched lips.

He sighed heavily and reached across her and picked up the bird wing, proffering it to her lips. "Eat. You need your strength." He leaned in and nudged his nose with hers', giving her a secret little quirk of the lips.

He shifted away to clean up their dinner, and she suddenly felt bereft. Of his mind addling body heat. And scent. Her mind cooled a little, and that mist – the haze that had covered her senses all day seemed to just…_dissipate. _The hotness, the flush, was suddenly gone. How strange. And then she remembered. Wished she hadn't.

She cursed herself for forgetting, for one fucking moment, that it was an act. But he'd felt so strong, so…_there_. His arms, holding her, made her feel like she didn't always have to be the strong one. She was so fucking _tired_ from being strong for everyone. But then…how could she win if she wasn't strong? Prim flashed across her mind, her white vulnerability, her need for Katniss, to be protected and sheltered – a safety only Katniss could give.

Not winning wasn't an option. There was only one other way.

A sudden gust of wind ripped through, and it felt like icy shards trying to tear into her clothing. She shivered, suddenly aware of the cold with the receding of that strange, dizzy heat. She yanked her backpack toward her and plunged her hand in.

She froze. Dug around and turned it upside down. Things fell out – binoculars, a torchlight, matches, a water bottle…but where was..? She grabbed Cato's bag and rummaged feverishly. Her head lifted slowly. "There's no sleeping bag."

"I know." What was it that just sparked in his eyes? "Come here," he patted the grass between his outstretched legs. She breathed heavily. Prim. And supporters – whose help she could not afford to forgo. She was being played, but in this, she could afford to be. Katniss couldn't help but reluctantly admire Cato's manipulative brilliance. She shifted across to settle in his arms, and an arm rose lazily to rest warm across her stomach. She ignored the safe, cosy feeling that suddenly invaded her senses.

His shirt had ridden up a little on one side to reveal a long, silvery white scar. Well well…she could play just as well as he. Twisting slightly in his arms she traced the scar with her fingertips, watching in fascination as golden muscles rippled under her touch.

She looked up to find his eyes closed, his long lashes gilding the tops of his high cheekbones. A sexy little smirk nonchalantly quirked his lips, and indifference that begged to differ from the racing tattoo of his heart she could feel burning into her other hand that she'd planted on his chest.

"What, couldn't keep your hands off me, honey?" She ignored the endearment, twisting around fully to straddle him. "No…" she drew out slowly, dragging her nails across the thin scar, and his lashes lifted, his glacial eyes pinning her. Right there. In his lap.

"Who were you fighting, that you got this?" She prodded his scar in emphasis. His eyes suddenly shuttered, unreadable. "I wasn't fighting." He said curtly. "I was being taught a lesson." Katniss pursed her lips, unsatisfied, but didn't push. He sighed, and gentled his tone, running his hands up and down her arms.

"Don't you think you should sleep? You'll need your strength tomorrow." It didn't answer her question, but she supposed it was as good as she'd get. She let herself be turned around, and let him arrange her in his arms, her ear pressed to his heart.

The leaves rustled, the pseudo moon rose higher, time passed and his heartbeat grew slower, steadier, his breathing even. His breath ruffled the fine hairs on top of her head, and she stayed like this for the longest while, reluctant to disturb the peace.

Funny, that. Peace in the middle of a nightmare bloodbath of the sick, twisted Games. But it was true. Somehow she felt safe and precious in his arms, protected from the outside world. An icy breeze shivered the crinkly leaves above; the moment dispelled and she steeled her resolve.

She pushed carefully against his arms, and they fell away easily, a testament he was actually sleeping. She turned to look at his face, beautiful – even young, somehow, softer in his sleep, in the moonlight. He made her weak even by just looking at him, and she couldn't be weak.

Quietly unsheathing her dagger, she placed it at the base of his throat. She looked down at her other hand, fighting the unruly tears. Why was she even crying? This was the only way!

She would weep about it later, the remorse would be cloying over her senses. _Murderer_, she'd berate herself in the years to come, killing the defenceless – in his sleep, no less. But at least she'd still be alive.

She looked up – his eyes were open. Disappointment in them, yet no surprise, no shock. _Fuck_. She couldn't do it. The blade shook. His icy eyes bored into hers' as one hand rose slowly to capture the hand that held the dagger.

Pressed it deeper into his throat. Her eyes widened in shock. A single droplet of ruby gleamed blackly at the blade point.

"Kill me." He whispered hoarsely. "Do it now. Fast. You're strong enough, aren't you? Won't you like it? The feel of my blood dripping down your arm, the life of another spent by your hand? Do it. Do it!" He taunted, pressing the blade deeper.

Clear tears tracked openly down her cheeks, blurring her vision. Her throat convulsed. Prim! This was for Prim! He had to die! Godammit, he had to die so she could win in the end, why not now?

The muscles in her arm bunched.

* * *

Mm, questions, questions. How did Cato obtain his scar? Where'd the sneakalicious Marvel go? And uh, the no brainer – what's Katniss going to do?

Well, all shall be revealed in due time – if you just have faith in me and keep REVIEWING :P

You guys reviewing lets me know people still read – it gives me motivation So yes.

GUEST I love you to the moon and back, you know who you are!

Thanks so much to my **ANONYMOUS REVIEWERS:**

**Jennifer, Alyss, Guest, Samantha, Emma, Liz, Shen, Dragonflame, HaReviews, Anon, Guest, OneLiner, Stuff, Lelia, Wildflower, Pearl, Pheonix, Rose Gold, Pink Sapphire, Guest, Luckydog, Catolover, BadBoyObsession, Megan, anon, Kait, N, Allison, IloveCato, Mamacitathats allthewordsiknow, Bandgeek, criticheromance, Mairen, giiiii, NYCstarlet, Too Lazy to Login to Review, Really Blackmail, Athena, Remmy, Noir-parachutes, Sophet, Collinscai08, x, AndreaShea, Tiara, Laur, LadySarahJ, kc, FP, Y, GB, Guest, Caitie Manda, lalaloopsy, Nighthawk, ilovegreensocks, Lola, Sumera. AND GUEST, **times like 500 :P

I LOVE YOU ALL! ESP **CAITIEMANDA** you awesome, awesome person!

And sorry it wasn't super long like I originally planned – but you would have been reading through a lot of fluff. LOTS. So it got cut down. :P

Natalily~


	8. Chapter 8

Why hello my hunnies! Long time no see…sorry :) I got caught up with exams for a month or two. But I updated! I know lots of you have become frustrated with my shoddy updating, but my life is just insane right now – bear with me? I love you guys so much!

This is for all of my amazing readers and reviewers, and Adelina & Guest you amazing guyzz – we'll leave it at that, or I might write an essay on how much I love you both. And Caitie Manda. For that essay LOL, brightened up my day :P

Well, I hope you enjoy it! It's a little longer than usual to make up for my absence :) Sorry for the technical screwup guys, and thanks for letting me know chapter 8 was like, 7 :)

* * *

**Chapter 8**

_The knife incident, at night in the Arena._

His eyes bored into hers' and his hands rose to grip her waist. He tipped his head slightly, warning in his eyes. "Threaten me a little more - make a scene for a couple more seconds." The whisper was so slight neither the cameras nor any living creature around them could hear it other than herself. _Nor any other living creature…_She frowned. The faintest of unnatural rustling caught the very peripheries of her awareness. So this is what he'd picked up on.

They had company.

She had to buy time, make a scene worth stopping for. "So ready to die, are you, eh?" She sneered, easing up on the knife at his throat. She gripped the front of his shirt. "So ready to just give up, huh? You know I'm going to kill you. You know it, I can see. There's no hope in your eyes, is there? No hope in your heart." One of his hands at her waist had dropped and searched, and presently found the spear he'd hidden behind him. His eyes urged her on.

Her voice climbed in volume. "You know what I'm going to do after I kill you? I'm going to strip you of your clothes, tie you upside down to this very tree and watch as your face turns blue. The pride and joy of your District, hung up like a common animal! District 2 has lost its champion, bested by scum from 12. You want to know how it feels to be me right now? Fucking terrific!" Wild strands of hair escaped her braid, and the irony, the bitter irony of this situation, this role reversal, threatened to choke her. Her head fell back as manic gurgle of laughter burst from her, eyes feral and unseeing.

In another world, she could feel the other hand still on her waist surreptitiously pickpocketing the knife stashed there, her wild actions covering any of his covert movements to their…audience.

Her chest closed in sudden, inexplicable despair. "But I can't, can I? I can't fucking kill you. My brain commands, and yet my heart doesn't listen." The hand not holding the knife shot out to grip his chin, lift his eyes to hers'. "I want to. I want to kill you, but I can't. You know why? I hate you for it, but _I need you._" The truth of it rang in her voice. She needed him desperately - to keep her alive, like now. But of course, Panem would take the words in a different light. _Young love_, they'll think. _Triumphs over everything. _

Fools. She would know. Love triumphs nothing. Her mother's love for her father gave way to the deepest loss. Haymitch's love for her mother was driving him insane. Her own love for Prim? This nightmare.

And yet she hadn't even lied when she said she'd needed him. And somehow, it made her feel like a good girl, being honest. Like she was tallying her good points against the horror of the Arena, like it was going to tip the scales in her favour when she stood at the gateway to Heaven. But we all need a reason to keep going, don't we?

She'd like to tell herself this was a scene purely for survival, that if they hadn't been interrupted, Cato would be lying dead at her feet, throat slashed. She'd like to tell herself yelling at Cato had been a tactical move, devoid of any true feeling. So why did she feel so drained? Why did her hands tremble so?

Cato squeezed her forearm slightly, jolting her back into the searing focus of his icy eyes. The slightest of nods tipped his head, but she understood. That he had all the weapons he needed, and it was time to catch their ambushers unawares. She whirled off him, throwing the knife still stained with Cato's blood in the general direction where a slight shadow lurked. A slight yelp told her she'd hit her mark. Suddenly, two more figure detached themselves from the shadows. One charged for Cato, and the other, one a hulking boy from 10 who burst into the small clearing, made straight for Katniss. Without a knife, without an arrow, without _Cato_, who was busy grappling with the other figure, her eyes widened, focused on the double tipped spear aimed straight for her heart.

At the very last possible moment, she stepped aside. His spear tipped as it lost its mark and lodged viciously into the earth, his momentum carrying him forward with a velocity even the wrenching of his muscles as he tried he turn away could not stop. A crunch of bone as it ripped through his sternum. The end of his spear protruded from his back, gleaming black and wet, sinister in the pale moonlight. His agonised scream was cut off with a wet gurgle as Cato spun around, his blade drawing easily across District 10's throat like steel to butter. The cannon fired in the distance. He spun back to his own opponent, whom she identified as the nimble boy from 8 who was throwing knives at Cato with alacrity. And Cato was dodging. With ease. And a smirk on his face. Bastard.

She picked up her bow and arrow, trying to discern the flickers in the darkness. They were playing with her; she was certain, these two figures cloaked in darkness. Neither was large, but they seemed agile, darting from shadow to shadow, simply daring her to waste her arrows in the empty blackness. She deigned to accept their invitation, pointing her weapon at one, then the other as to confuse them of her target. She spotted one at the edge of the clearing. This one was agile, she noted. Too agile. She pulled back her bow, feeling the familiar strains of muscle as she aimed at this solitary figure skirting the boundaries of the gloom, inhaled deeply…_changed direction_ and fired.

A pained scream rent the clearing. Now she knew that second shadow suffered from both a knife and arrow wound. No cannon. That meant he was still alive. Her eyes darted back to find that other agile figure she hadn't shot in favour of the other.

Gone. An arrow and a knife wasted and only one dead. The one she'd killed without a weapon. She snorted. An arm wrapped around her midsection and she relaxed. Cato. Her hold on her weapon loosened – and it was wrenched away. The initial adrenaline from her fight had faded and she suddenly began to notice something. The arm around her wasn't as lean and muscled as Cato. He smelled wrong. Sour and rank, like oily hair and musty sweat. A voice whispered into her ear. "Don't scream yet, or I'll kill you." She knew that voice from somewhere, and she tried to place it. Oh yes, she got it…

Marvel.

She watched Cato fight with panicked eyes. It appeared he was toying with his opponent, just having fun while she was about to get killed. Nothing to lose right? So she called Marvel's bluff. And screamed.

A lot of things happened in that moment. Cato had finally decided the game was up and had just embedded the knife in the boy's chest. The cannon fired. He'd spun around to her scream and his face hadn't betrayed anything at her predicament. No panic - nothing. What else happened in that moment? Oh yes, she felt hurt. Stupid, she was about to die, and she was hurt by his lack of emotional response.

There was something else that happened too in that moment. A knife nicked the tender skin of her throat.

Marvel cleared his throat and started sardonically. "So I trust I hold your full attention, yes?" He didn't bother waiting for any response, eager to bathe in the moment. Clearly to him, some measure of success had occurred, and he fully intended to live it. He must have a screw loose. If she and Cato were still alive, it clearly meant he'd failed – but she wasn't really in a position to point that out.

She could feel the smugness radiating from Marvel. In this moment she felt only the humour of the situation. Didn't his mother choose his name well? He clearly marvelled in himself. A little giggle escaped her, noted but ignored. Looking at Cato, she felt like she was invincible even as a knife was at her throat. Like she was safe. Like she knew he was going to save her and it would be stupid to even bother worrying. She wasn't sure if she hated or loved the feeling.

"I outsmarted you both, you know? Right from the start of today. Now that you're both going to die, I guess it's okay to let you know I'm far cleverer than you gave me credit." Both going to die? Was he for real? Even if he killed her, there was still Cato to be reckoned with. Cato, who along with his own bloodlust, would also have to play the part of the lover, avenging his fallen beloved. No miracle could change the situation. Marvel would not be able to leave the clearing alive.

Yet blown up on his ego, he continued, "Yes, you heard me ri – Now, now, I wouldn't do that if I were you, Cato." He tutted patronisingly at Cato, who'd taken a step forward. "Wouldn't want your true love to get hurt, eh? So you really don't want to keep walking.

"And while you're at it, drop the knife," he said, nodding to the dagger in Cato's hand. Cato seemed reluctant to comply with Marvel's orders. "Drop it," he hissed. A little trickle of blood cleaved down Katniss' collarbone. He dropped it.

"Now, where were we?" He seemed like some sort of deranged grandfather, over eager to share and reshare, hash and rehash his life story - his defining moments. "Oh yes. You didn't know, did you? From the very start of this morning, I had you fooled already. In fact, it started last night. Remember after I kissed you?" He gave her a painful nudge with the knife. "Afterwards, I slipped a little…substance into your water. Just the tiniest amount of juice from some lovelace berries I found while we were trekking earlier that day."

Lovelace berries? Her mind quickly rewound to her mothers' neither here-nor-there berry lessons. Lovelace – like an aphrodisiac. Enhanced any feelings of desire. And her desire was all directed at Cato. No wonder the bitter taste of her water, the unusual heat of her body, the haziness of her mind.

"Too bad you didn't drink it all this morning, so the effect wore off early." _Oh yes, the metallic tang, spitting out a good amount of water…the haze passing from her mind earlier tonight…_ "I'd put quite an exact amount, you two were supposed to be too busy having sex or some shit to comprehend our ambush." How strange. She could almost _feel_ his manic grin. "No matter, I simply have two more tributes out of the way - hard ones to kill too - thanks to you two. No really, thank you kindly.

"So you see? I really have outdone myself. I'm going to kill her, you know", speaking easily to Cato, "and you won't find the will to live. You love her – I saw the jealousy in your eyes after I kissed her." Somehow, Katniss appreciated the manipulations of Marvel's mind. But he'd seriously underestimated Cato. No way would he ever die because she'd died.

"I'm going to kill her now," he repeated, "And you won't find the will to live. You really won't. You'll want to die." Was that…fear she heard in his voice? And suddenly she knew. They were all acting here. World class actors. Marvel's plan had gone horrifically awry, and he was trying to convince himself he would get out alive, that Cato wouldn't tear him apart, limb by limb. Trying to believe the impossible. And she almost felt a little sorry for him. Wasn't he doing what everyone was trying to do? Get out alive? But she didn't have time for compassion – no time for empathy.

And so when a quick flick of Cato's foot arced the fallen dagger through the air, she snatched it by the hilt and rammed the blade back into Marvel's waiting heart behind her. He was dead before he could register and a cannon boomed in the distance. She reminded herself that the time for remorse was not now.

Marvel fell away behind her, and a new set of arms reached for her, wrapping her in their embrace, soothing, stroking her hair. She was too empty to feel and didn't need the comfort and he knew that. Fucking cameras. Her mind played over what Marvel had said. Jealousy in Cato's eyes? She looked up, gauging his face which was softened by a great imitation of tender love. But his eyes. Cold and empty, like flint. _His windows to the soul_._ She wondered if she wanted to know what his soul was like. What his heart was like._ He put up a good façade, but she'd bet her life that he didn't love her. A flare of possessiveness didn't equate to love. Animal instinct wasn't love.

He gave her a crooked smile, running his hands up and down her arms, as though to check for injuries and for a moment she was almost fooled. She knew for certain Panem was fooled. She bet her life again that they thought they were witnessing the love story of the century; she was that certain. _They overcame death, their love was so strong_, they'd say later, _they were supposed to be enemies but she loved him so much she couldn't even kill him with her knife at his throat_. They'd forgive her 'momentary lapse in judgement' because she didn't carry through. She'd been too in love to. Cared too much about Cato to really do it. She'd like to believe she was a world class actress too, that she'd fooled everyone but herself. But had she?

She twined her arms about his neck, curling her fingers in the downy softness of the hair at his nape and whispered "I wouldn't know how to live if you'd died just then." His eyes mocked her ironic statement, but his murmur was short and sweet.

"I love you, sweetheart."

Panem heard. Panem stopped. And somewhere in District 12, the heart of a boy named Gale shattered silently in his chest.

For a moment, she stopped breathing and her heart stuttered. No one but Prim and her mother had ever said those words to her. And every, single time, the words never failed to make her feel cherished, precious. Like now. At a loss what to do, she blushed, disentangling herself from his arms. Her hands felt awkwardly free so she bent down and picked up her bow, trying to diffuse the palpable tension in the air, the 'expectations' from her side, and quietly said "let's place the bodies together." He didn't question her, didn't demand for her to say more, so they worked in awkward companionship, dragging the dead to a pile in the middle of the clearing. Her eyes flickered sadly over them, remorse rising like bile in her throat. Her eyes registered something but it was a moment until her brain clicked. Her eyes widened in shock. She reached over, grabbed Cato's hand and his movements stilled.

What about the little yelp she'd heard, the other one who'd she hit with the knife? Four had come to ambush two, and yet there were only three dead. The tally didn't add up.

Someone had escaped.

* * *

Mm, so…who is this escapee? And to those who wanted Marvel, well, here he was! Too bad he won't be rocking up anymore…(the kind of lovable creep)

**Food for thought: When people get too lazy to give feedback but press 'alert' and 'favorite' all the same...don't you think sometimes I wonder if there's a point to keep updating?**

Don't worry, there's plenty more to come, just be patient with moi :)

Thanks so much to my **ANONYMOUS REVIEWERS:**

Adelina, Guest, T, Sav, Mayre, Eve, Melissa, Tintinn, Victoria, Marie, Guest, K.C., Leo, Natalily UPDATE, Jessica, Alyss, Miranda, Emma, Riley, Pink Sapphire, Liz, Rose Gold, Phoenix, Samantha, Wildflower, Jennifer, Lelia, Pearl, Ruemellark, Guest, Massie, Josie, Amara, Marisa, BadBoyObsession, Megan, anon, Kait, N, Allison, IloveCato, Mamacitathats allthewordsiknow, Bandgeek, criticderomance, Guest, Guest, anon, anonymous and ADELINA x 50000000

Remember, faith is key!

Love you guys

Natalily~


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